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There is a Lord will hear you play to-night;
Play. Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves;
(Exit Player. My lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little Vinegar to make our devil roar,
Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome, every one: Let them want nothing that the house affords.
[Exit one with the Players, Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And see him drest in all suits like a lady. That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, And call him Madam, do him all obeisance. Tell him from me (as he will win my love) He bear himself with honourable action,
Property, in the language of And the Passion being that, of a play-house, is every implement all the myfieries, which was most neceffary to the exhibition.
frequently represented, vinegar 9 A little Vinegar to make our became at length the fanding devil roar.) When the acting the implement to torment the Demysteries of the old and new tes- vil: And used for this purpose tament was in vogue ; at the re- even after the mysteries ccased, presentation of the mystery of the and the moralities came in vogue; Passion, Judas and the Devil where the Devil continued to made a part. And the Devil, have a considerable part. wherever he came, was always The mention of it here was to to suffer some disgrace, to make ridicule fo absurd a circumstance the people laugh: As here, the in these old farces. buffoonery was to apply the gall
WARBURTON. and vinegar to make him roar.
Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
In former editions, Poet design'd, the Tinker's supWho for these seven Years bath pos'd Lunacy should be of four- . effeem'd himfelf
teen Years standing at least, is No better than a poor and loath- evident upon two parallel Paffa. some Beggar.)
ges in the Play to that Purpose. I have ventur'd to alter a Word
THEOBALD. here, against the Authority of It is not unlikely that the the printed Copies; and hope, onion was an expedient used by I fall be justified in it by two the actors of interludes. subsequent Passages. That the
SCENE SCENE IV.
Changes to a Bedchamber in the Lord's House.
Enter Sly with Attendants, fome with apparel, bason and
ewer, and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord. Sly. OR God's fake, a pot of small ale.
i Serv. Wilt please your Lordship drink
a cup of lack? 2 Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these
Conserves ? 3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour wear to
day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly, call not me Honour, nor Lordship: 1 ne'er drank lack in my life: and if you give me any Conserves, give me Conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment l'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more Thoes than feet ; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes ; cr such shoes as my tocs look through the over-leather. Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in
Ho nour ! Oh, that a mighty man of such descent, Of such poffeffions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
Sly. What would you make me mad ? am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's Son of Burton-beath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bearherd, and now by present poffeffion a tinker? afk Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not; if she say, I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'st knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught: here's
1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Mar. Oh, this it is that makes your servants
Lord. We'll shew chee To, as she was a maid,
And at that light shall sad Apollo weep:
Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord :
Sly. Am I a Lord, and have I such a Lady?
hands? Oh, how we joy to see your wits restor’d! Oh, that once more you knew but what you are ! These fifteen years you have been in a dream, Or, when you wak’d, so wak'd as if you slepr.
Sly. These fifteen years ! by my fay, a goodly nap: But did I never speak of all that time?
1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door, And raild upon the Hostess of the house; And say, you would present her at the * Leet, Because she bought stone-jugs, and not seal'd quarts; Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. 3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house ; nor no such
maid; Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up;
Leer,] At the Court leet, or courts of the manor.